Boxer's Legacy
by Dingo Ridge
Summary: If George Orwell was alive today to look over the political landscape what would he see? This story continues on from the last sentence of Animal Farm and attempts to look at what may have happened in the years since Orwell's passing. This story also investigates whether the animals are still controlled by the pigs and if Orwell's characters left us any clues for the future.
1. Chapter 1

_Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again: but already it was impossible to say which was which._

 _November 1943 - February 1944_

 _George Orwell_

The creatures retreated to the barn, shock etched on their faces as they struggled to take in the scene they had just witnessed. Clover led the frightened, younger animals to their sleeping quarters and tried to settle them down.

"I know you sense something is wrong," she told them, "but this is up to the adults to work out. We will do whatever it takes to protect you."

On hearing the word 'protect,' a number of the parent animals snapped out of their numbness and moved over to their children. One mother sheep rested her head against her lamb and began to sing an unfashioned tune in the lamb's ear. Almost in unison other parents moved forward and began to do the same. The barn filled with soft, soothing voices as the young animals drifted off to sleep.

At the other end of the barn the animals remained in stunned silence.

Eventually a voice whispered **,** "When did the pigs turn into man?"

No-one replied, lost in absorbing the enormity of the situation.

After five minutes Benjamin spoke. "I think," he said solemnly, "it is just in our nature. It is who we all truly are on the inside and we cannot change that."

Clover had left the sleeping young and moved over to the older animals, lying down among them.

"Snowball knew it was happening but he had no chance against them. If we are honest with ourselves we _all_ knew something was wrong but said nothing," she said.

"But what do we do now?" asked Marie, a mother duck whose eggs had recently hatched. "I have children to look after. How can I protect them?"

Bessy, a nervous sheep, who always trembled when addressed by the pigs, stood up.

"I … can't leave this farm," she stammered. "If I escape with my lambs they will be eaten by foxes or taken by humans."

Other animals murmured in agreement and a chant broke out.

" _There's nothing we can do, nothing we can do, nothing we can do."_

This rang around and around the barn until eventually Benjamin stomped his foot.

"Calm down!" he roared. "This din will solve nothing!"

The chant spluttered to a stop momentarily. But one bleat slipped from a sheep's mouth and immediately the chant broke out again, growing louder and louder until eventually Benjamin could stand no more. He walked outside and slept in the cold instead.

None of the animals slept well that night. The chattering and chanting continued through the night with no decisions made except for the common consensus among the animals that there was nothing they could do.

Early the next morning, before the pigs awoke, Clover addressed the animals.

"It appears," she said, "that nothing can be done. We know what their intentions are now - but if we tell them that we know they will likely kill us. We must remain silent and not let them know what we have seen."

There were objections to this by a couple of the young horses and goats but other animals quickly hushed them.

"Think of the children!" the mother ducks chanted.

"How can we protect them?" bleated the sheep.

And so the farm remained in status quo over the next bitter winter. The animals continued with their work and the pigs continued to live in the house as though they were humans.

Squealer, shrewd as ever, sensed something was different on the few occasions he ventured out to supervise the work. The animal workers struggled to look him in the eye and, on the rare occasions they did, their eyes were either distant and dull or full of venom and fury. Squealer called a meeting with the other pigs to discuss their peculiar attitudes. He was concerned there may be another rebellion, but Napoleon assured him that their whips and dogs ensured every animal could be controlled.

"The animals of this farm are stupid," Napoleon declared in closing the meeting. "And it will _never_ be any different."

The animal's hearts weren't in their work. Production and morale were at an all-time low and after a few months Napoleon started asking questions to Squealer. He pulled Squealer aside to discuss the farm's profit and loss statements. He was angry that egg production was down by a third, the fields were looking unkempt and that Pilkington was starting to doubt their ability to keep up.

It could no longer be denied that the hay and oat crops were also down for the year. It was found that after the majority of the crop promised to Pilkington was sold that there wouldn't be enough feed for the remaining animals.

The cows, it was decided by the pigs, were the largest eaters and could no longer be sustained. After much haggling and the signing of a new agreement, the pigs struck a deal with Pilkington whereby he would take the cows to his farm and then sell the milk back to the pigs at a greatly reduced rate. The pigs smugly felt they were getting the better deal as they were promised ample milk supplies and no longer needed to waste feed on the cows.

The cows were told they were going to a new farm filled with lush green pasture for them to eat. Squealer convinced them with great enthusiasm that it was in their interests to go as there was no longer any food left for them at Animal Farm due to their own laziness.

And so they went, hopeful of a better life.

For the remaining animals, life continued much as usual. Every now and again the goats would bring up the notion of going on strike. The young horses would enthusiastically discuss stomping on Napoleon and Squealer's heads. But when it came down to it, no-one could bring themselves to volunteer for the job. Every conversation ended the same way, with a duck crying, "Think of the children!"


	2. Chapter 2

Three months later on a Saturday night, while the pigs were distracted with card games and alcohol, a solitary figure entered the barn. The young animals were asleep and the older animals were getting ready to settle.

Clover did a double take in shock as she recognised the visitor.

" _Mollie_!" she cried. "Is that really you?"

Mollie dipped her head to Clover. "Hello Clover. I've missed you."

The animals crowded around Mollie, vying to get up close.

"You've put on weight," said one of the oldest goats, prodding Mollie's expanded stomach. "You look so different."

It was undeniable that Mollie did look different. Her mane was no longer silky, her coat was slightly matted and her teeth were browning with age.

Benjamin stood by watching the reunion unfold without saying a word. But he hadn't walked away either. Clover sensed he was curious.

"Did your owner kick you out?" she asked Mollie. "Is that why you're here – do you want to move back?"

Mollie looked at Clover. "That's the last thing I want … and I don't have an owner any more. I'm here to -"

"Wait!" interrupted one of the younger sheep. "Don't have an owner? What do you mean?"

Another sheep shushed her with a hard push. "Don't ask stupid questions," she said. "Let's find out what she wants."

"It's not a stupid question," Mollie looked at the first sheep with a smile. "I don't have an owner any more, I have a friend. We give and take from each other with equal gratitude."

The second sheep clucked her lips and muttered that it sounded no different than an owner to her.

"I'll explain further what I mean," said Mollie. "But first, do you mind if I sit and tell you about what happened to me?"

The animals shuffled back and made way for her to sit with them. It took a while to settle as Mollie's legs were quite obviously swollen and stiff. Benjamin hesitated to join the group, struck by the memory of a night long ago.

"I hope you're not here to talk about a dream," he muttered.

"Major had a dream, but I'm here to tell you about _reality_. If you don't want to hear it, you don't have to," Mollie replied, nodding her head toward the door.

All of the animals hesitated a moment and looked toward the door. But curiosity won out and they all stayed, including Benjamin.

"Where did you go after you left here?" prompted Clover. "Did you move to an enemy farm?"

"Yes, I did. Call me a coward, but I didn't believe in the dream that Major, Snowball _or_ Napoleon created for us. They didn't deserve my loyalty or the assumption that I would work and fight for them."

"Too interested in sugar lumps and ribbons for your mane is more like it," mumbled one of the young horses that had heard stories of Mollie in her younger days.

Mollie overheard him and looked him in the eye.

"I don't wear ribbons much anymore. But, if I feel like it, sometimes I will. And no-one can stop me."

"But why did you think they would treat you any better?" Clover asked.

"At the start they gave me sugar lumps and ribbons - but they didn't treat me any better. I was whipped and forced to work hard for years. They said I was in a union to protect the animals ... but they took everything for themselves. When my arthritis started, they decided they had no further use for me and that's when they sent me to the knackers."

The animal's hearts skipped a beat.

"To Alfred Simmonds?" gasped Clover. "That's where Boxer was sent!"

A single tear ran down Mollie's nose. "I know. That's why I'm here. I have a message from Boxer for you all."

This sent the animals into a frenzy and the barn erupted. Even the youngest of the animals had heard stories of Boxer. Questions flew in from every direction.

"What did he say?" echoed around and around the barn until Benjamin roared "ENOUGH!"

The noise trickled to a silence.

"I'll get to his message," Mollie said. "But first let me tell you what happened before that."

Captivated, the animals strained to hear every word.

"I was due to be shot the day after I got to the knackers," Mollie continued, "and they put me into a holding paddock out the back until it was time."

Unable to contain themselves, immediately questions flew in again from two of the horses.

"Did you try to talk to them and tell them not to shoot you?" asked one.

"Did you try to escape?" breathed another.

"Only the pigs have learnt to talk with a human voice, so far. The rest of us can understand the humans, but not respond to them, yet." Mollie looked at the second horse. "And yes, I did try to escape, but the fences were too high and there was no way out."

Mollie continued.

"I spent the rest of that night reflecting on my life. I thought about my time here and how silly and vain I was. I thought about how lazy I was and how I expected everyone else to shoulder the responsibilities. I thought about you Clover. I thought about Boxer and how hard he worked. I thought about everyone here, including you Benjamin. I wished I had the chance to say sorry for everything I'd done, and for running away. By the sunrise I was ready to die – I didn't feel I deserved to live by that point.

As the men were loading their guns, a car pulled into the yard. A woman came in and said she needed to speak urgently with the owner. They met in his office and I heard raised voices. As Simmonds came out of the office he was putting a bundle of money into his top pocket and smiling. The woman came over to me with a halter and lead rope and … she told me the story of why she was there. Then she asked if I would go home with her."

"Two legs bad, two legs bad," murmured one of the oldest sheep.

"Humans had brought me nothing but misery – but, when I looked into her eyes, I knew her story was true. Something clicked in my head at that moment and I decided I _wanted_ to go with her."

Mollie twitched as she stirred from the memory back into the present and she looked around the animals.

"Two legs bad, _two legs bad_ ," the sheep got louder.

"Major was _wrong_. Not all humans are our enemy and not all animals are our friends," Mollie said.

"So you went with her? But what about Boxer, where was he?" asked Clover.

"That came later," said Mollie and she continued. "Theresa took me to her farm down the road. The first thing she did was massage my legs and give me pain relief. She nursed me the best she could. But, more than anything … she gave me time to heal. My head and my heart were so damaged that it was difficult to trust again. I wouldn't take her sugar lumps. I wouldn't take her hay or oats either; I just wanted to be left alone. Her young daughter tried to get close to me too but I charged her away every time she came near.

After a while Theresa made me an offer. She asked if I would be interested in eating the grass on her land. She told me she didn't have the money for a slasher, and it would help them if someone would eat it. She also asked if her daughter could pick up my dung to sell for fertiliser. So that's what I did. I ate alone in the paddock and, in return, they left me be.

Her daughter, Amy, made a sign and sold my dung on the side of the road for one pound a bag. And every day Amy would add the money to a tin she kept in the barn."

"They probably used the money to buy alcohol," said one of the goats, "like the pigs did when they sold Boxer."

"No," said Mollie. "They used the money to _rescue_ Boxer."

Everyone sat in stunned silence.

"They … helped Boxer?" asked Clover.

Mollie closed her eyes as she recounted the story of that fateful day.

"It was a day like any other for me to begin with, but at three o'clock everything changed. The daughter, Amy, ran into the farm calling out to her parents. As Theresa and her husband John ran out to see what had happened, I moved in closer to listen. Much as I didn't want to, I had become fond of the young girl and wished her no harm.

Amy's parents put her in their car and drove off with her. An hour later John came back and grabbed the tin of money from the barn and hitched up the horse trailer. Another hour passed and then they all came back again with the car and horse float. In the back of the float was a horse."

"Boxer!" cried Clover.

"Yes, it was Boxer," Mollie said softly.

"But where is he now? Why isn't he here – what did they do to him?"

"Boxer only lived another three months after that," Mollie said. Through her tears she couldn't help but smile at the memory of that time.

Clover struggled to comprehend Mollie's words and reeled backwards at the news.

"That's awful!" cried Clover. "And why are you _smiling_ about it?"

"Because they were the best three months of his life. He got the chance to retire and follow his own dreams," said Mollie as she looked around the barn. "Not all of us will get that chance."

Clover burst into tears, unsure of her feelings. Happy that Boxer had lived through the pig's evil plans, sad he had died, angry he hadn't come back to her, relieved he had a chance to retire. Unable to cope with her emotions she kicked out at the barn wall. The force of the kick shattered a window, which promptly work the sleeping young animals. The barn filled with the noise of crying animals and, as the crescendo reached a deafening chorus, the animals dived to shush them.

But it was too late. The pigs and dogs heard the ruckus and rushed out with their whips and guns. As they ran out of the house they saw a flash of white disappearing out of the front gate of the farm.

Napoleon immediately guessed what had happened and called to the other pigs in alarm.

"Snowball is back!"


	3. Chapter 3

The pigs gave chase to the white creature streaking away from the farm, but it was too late. Hindered by the alcohol they had been drinking they couldn't catch up. The dogs valiantly gave chase, too. But, lazy from a lack of exercise, they fell in a heaving heap at the top of the driveway.

Squealer, fat and bloated, finally reached the pile of gasping dogs and, with every ounce of his last energy, he raised his whip to them.

"Run you lazy imbeciles, run!"

But the dogs were spent and couldn't move.

Napoleon, who had more whisky to drink than any other pig, had gotten himself lost in the chase and was entangled in a fence. One of the other pigs, who had followed him, managed to get him out.

"I command you to carry me," ordered Napoleon.

So the pig half carried, half dragged Napoleon up to Squealer.

"Napoleon," cried Squealer, "the dogs refuse to follow my orders and, for their treason, they must be shot!"

"Anyone who refuses our orders must be shot," slurred Napoleon in agreement.

On hearing this, the dogs struggled to their feet and attempted to run away.

"Shoot!" yelled Squealer and Napoleon in unison.

It was a bewildering sight. Dogs were limping and trying to run in the darkness and the drunk pigs were aiming their guns in all directions trying to shoot them.

Bullets were flying everywhere. One bullet even hit the barn wall in the distance, sending the animals into another frenzy, as they scrambled to hide.

When the bullets ran out one of the more sober pigs took stock of the damage. After half an hour he reported back to Napoleon, who was vomiting against a fence.

"I regret to inform you that one of our own has died in the crossfire," he said solemnly, "however, we have managed to slay three of the treacherous dogs."

"And where is Snowball?" demanded Squealer.

"We have searched … but it appears he has escaped again."

The dogs were gone. The pigs were spent. The animals in the barn were cowering with fear. Napoleon ordered four young porkers to patrol the property throughout the night.

While no-one was looking Napoleon had wiped blood from one of the dying dogs and smeared it onto his chest.

"I command you now to carry me back to the house," he told the pig who had carried him into the battle zone, "for I have been gravely injured."

The other pigs looked at this chest in shock and one rushed forward to stem the blood with his trotter.

"Great Leader, you cannot die!" he cried in despair.

"A great leader will take a bullet for what he believes in," said Napoleon. "Now just take me back."

Fortunately, many of the pigs were now sobering up and they scrambled to hoist Napoleon onto their shoulders. Squealer led the solemn march home, cracking his whip as he went, although for no particular purpose as there was no-one left around to hear it.

The morning after the battle the animals awoke to a grey, gloomy day, which matched their emotions perfectly.

One of the horses crept from the barn and reported back that the pigs were removing the bodies of three dogs from the driveway. Before they could discuss it further Napoleon appeared in the barn's doorway in a wheelchair, a bandage around his chest, flanked by the pigs and pushed in by a somewhat disheveled Squealer.

"Animals, it appears we have traitors in our midst! We have reason to believe that Snowball is back to reclaim the farm."

The animals looked at each other in disbelief. Before anyone could say anything, Clover stepped forward.

"You are correct Great Leader. We saw him through the window last night as we were settling for the night. He called out to talk to us and, when we told him to go away, he threw a rock at the window."

She pointed to the shards of glass still lying on the barn floor.

Squealer's eyes darted around all of the animals.

"I saw him, too," said Benjamin stepping forward to stand next to Clover.

"The brave dogs gave chase, but alas he has killed three of them, as well as one of our senior ranking officials." Napoleon straightened his shoulders. "Rest assured our dogs will find and torture Snowball for what he has done."

At mention of the dogs, Squealer gave Napoleon a sideways glance.

"The dogs are still out looking for Snowball on neighboring properties, but I have faith they will come back soon with him, dead or alive. Now go about your work – we will ensure your safety at all times."

Squealer dipped his head at this and said, "Thank you Great Leader."

"Yes, thank you Great Leader," echoed Clover as though it were a prayer.

With that the meeting was over and the pigs filed out of the barn.

Later that day, as the animals went about their work, a truck arrived in the driveway. A neighboring farmer had found the remaining dogs cowering on his property and because they had collars and tags he was able to promptly return them to the pigs.

As the animals watched from a distance they sensed the dogs were not returning triumphant. Indeed their tails were firmly between their legs as they were led back into the house. Within minutes of their return the animals could hear raised voices and whips cracking - and what sounded like howls of pain from the dogs.

That night one of the young male horses crept to the main house to peer in the windows. The pigs were reclining on couches reading the Telegraph, with the dogs nowhere to be seen. He crept around to the back window of the laundry and saw the dogs were huddled, bags over their heads, whimpering with fright. Their backs were devoid of fur, as though they had been whipped repeatedly.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning word went around that there was to be another meeting of great importance and Napoleon was going to give a speech.

At noon, Napoleon arrived at the barn. He was sitting upright in a wheelchair, again pushed in by Squealer. The other pigs tottered in on their two legs, with the dogs meekly by their side. Squealer touched his whip repeatedly; twitching it just slightly if the dogs moved an inch.

"Animals," Napoleon began, "As you are aware, Snowball has been seen at the farm. Our brave pigs have chased him off and our dogs have been searching for him ever since. It appears he has gotten away from us for now. We need to be vigilant for he will be back. If you see anything untoward, you must let Squealer know immediately. Any animal that brings us information on Snowball's whereabouts will be richly rewarded with a bushel of apples."

In spite of their mistrust, the animals stirred at the thought of apples. Many had never tasted anything so luxurious.

"Now, where is Angus?" Napoleon asked, looking back at the pigs behind him.

One of the young pigs stepped forward.

Napoleon's chest puffed with pride as he announced grandly, "Angus is our new Director of Technology."

"What does technology mean?" called out one of the goats.

Napoleon pulled a square, black object out of his top pocket and held it up to the animals.

"This," he said, "is an example of technology. This is going to change way we intend to keep you safe."

The animals moved forward to take a closer look at the object and were perplexed. To them, it looked like nothing but black plastic with a small piece of glass on the front.

One of the young goats couldn't help himself and leaned forward, nibbling around the edges as he inspected it closer. At this Squealer lunged forward and slapped the goat across the head with his trotter, forcing it to drop unceremoniously onto the ground.

" _Never_ touch this again!" Squealer turned red with fury. "Any animal caught touching these will be punished with death!"

The animals immediately shuffled back. Angus leant forward and picked up the camera, again holding it up.

"This is called a _camera_ ," he explained. "It will record the actions of anyone who walks in front of it. We will placing these around the farm in hidden spots to record any activities –"

" - Any _unauthorised_ activities of anyone who shouldn't be here," interrupted Napoleon.

"Will it record us, too?" asked one of the sheep, her forehead wrinkled, trying to grasp the concept.

"Yes, it will record you animals as well, but this is for _your_ own safety. If Snowball comes onto the property, even at night, we will be able to see it on our machines in the house and immediately come out to kill him."

The animals still felt concerned, but didn't exactly know why.

It was fortunate timing for Napoleon, as he had been in talks for some time with a technology company to discuss the various options for monitoring the animals. He had told the dogs if they saw an animal on the monitors take even one extra grain of barley for themselves, they were to be killed immediately. He had ensured the dogs were starved of food so they would be desperate for any opportunity for a carcass.

"As I said, if you've done _nothing_ wrong then you have _nothing_ to be worried about. It is for your own _safety_ that we have done this. And, in return for the expense we have gone to for protecting you, we will be reducing your food rations and increasing the retirement age by three years to pay for it."

"But that's –" called one of the goats nearing retirement age.

"- That is the way it is!" shouted Squealer. He whispered into the ear of a nearby pig who looked over to the old goat and then wrote something down in his notepad.

Squealer turned to Napoleon and bowed his head. "Thank you, Great Leader."

As had now become the norm, the animals also bowed their heads and echoed his words to Napoleon's departing back.

Work on putting up the cameras began immediately. The animals were locked in the barn so they couldn't see where the cameras were fitted. But word came back from some of the roosters who were able to fly up to the barn rafters and look through the cracks. They reported that the pigs were struggling to install the wires, as they were trying to stand on two legs on the ladders.

The animals formed groups to discuss these latest developments. The younger animals were upset about the food rationing. They were already struggling to find the energy to work long hours on the little they were fed.

The older animals were more concerned about the changes to the retirement age.

"None of us have retired. Ever," said one of the hens. "My eggs stopped last week but they haven't noticed yet."

One of the other hens patted her on the wing. "Don't worry, Ivy. We'll cover for you and lay extra eggs."

Another hen stepped in.

"As Boxer would have said: _We must work harder!_ "

The other hens agreed and a chant broke out.

 _We must work harder! We must work harder! We must work harder!_

With this, Clover snapped out of the trance-like state she'd been in.

 _Is that what Boxer would have said, had he still been here?_

Mollie's mention of a message from Boxer rang in her ears.

" _Boxer has a message, Boxer has a message, Boxer has a message."_

Through the jumble of overwhelming thoughts, suddenly it all became clear in her mind.

She ran over to Benjamin who was standing alone in the far corner of the barn.

"Benjamin! I need one last favour and then I promise I won't ever ask you for another one."

Benjamin turned away from her. "Whatever it is, I can't help you, Clover. There's no point anymore."

"If you won't do it for me, then do it for Boxer. I know you loved him like a brother, even though you never told him. _Please,_ Benjamin."

Benjamin waited a moment and then turned toward Clover. His eyes were moist in a way she had never seen and she knew then that he would do it. She ran and found a piece of chalk from the harness room and, when she returned, she placed it into Benjamin's mouth.

If any of the other animals had looked over at that particular moment they would have seen a strange sight. Benjamin was using the chalk in his mouth to make two symbols on the barn wall. The symbols read: £1.

Clover stared at the two symbols all afternoon, engraving them into her memory.

As dusk fell, she called to one of the birds in the barn rafters, whispered into its ear and gave it a small black cleaning cloth from the harness room.

When dusk changed to darkness the bird deftly took the cloth in its beak, then flew to the newly-installed camera near the barn door and dropped the cloth over the glass lens.

Clover looked to Benjamin and dipped her head.

"Wish me luck," she said and slipped out of the barn as the other animals settled for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Clover's sight was failing with age and the blackness of the night filled her senses, as she trudged through the darkness toward the driveway of the farm.

She was aware the other cameras placed around the property could see her movements and that the dogs could give chase. But she went on, regardless. It was too late to turn back.

Fortunately, the dogs were dozing lethargically due to a lack of food and the pigs were immersed with another new technology they had recently acquired. The pigs were sitting around a box called a 'television' and were so engrossed with the moving pictures on the screen that they didn't notice the lone horse disappearing out the front gates of the property.

For a long time Clover walked in the darkness. A full moon helped to light the way, though she stumbled through some rocky patches. Unsure of where exactly she was going, she continued to walk for hours around the town and throughout the community.

She was about to admit defeat when the lights of a passing truck lit up the road in front of her. Clover finally saw what she was looking for. A sign on the fence of the property read:

 **Manure**

 **£1**

She felt the front gate with her mouth, lifted the latch, and then entered the property. She left the gate open in case she needed to run back out again in a hurry.

Edging her way down the driveway, she felt and heard the pebble road crackling under her hooves. Heart thumping, she made her way toward what she could just make out as a barn-like structure.

She fumbled around the boundary walls of the barn looking for a door when she heard a noise behind her.

"Clover? Is that you?"

Mollie appeared in front of her and she rubbed Clover's nose gently with her own.

"I had to hear Boxer's message," said Clover. "I didn't know what else to do."

"Come with me," said Mollie as she led Clover to the front of the barn where a dim lamp lit the darkness. Mollie lay in a soft, grassy spot near the barn door. Through the light Clover could now see Mollie was wearing a royal blue horse blanket to keep her warm.

Mollie patted the ground with her hoof.

"Please, don't be afraid. Sit, and I'll tell you more about Boxer's message."

After the tense, weary walk Clover felt her muscles relax and she lowered herself to the ground beside Mollie.

"This is the place Boxer came to after he was saved from the knacker's yard. This became his home."

"What happened to him at Alfred Simmonds?" Clover asked. "He must have been so frightened. We tried to tell him where they were taking him."

"Yes, he heard … he knew. By the time he got there he was weak from kicking the van. When the van pulled up at the knacker's yard it took four men to try and get him out. He used every ounce of his strength to try and fight them off."

Mollie winced as she re-told Boxer's memories of that day. How the men had beaten him with steel rods over and over on his back, his legs, his head until, finally, he collapsed. How they had kicked him with their boots and spat on him. How they had then gone to get their rifles and how Boxer had heard the click of the bullets being loaded and felt the cold, hard steel of the gun against his forehead.

And then how one act of bravery by a young girl had changed Boxer's life forever.

Alfred Simmonds wasn't a man of God but, for the rest of his remaining years, he would lament over copious whiskeys in the local tavern that, for him, it was the day the devil had visited. But it may have been just pure luck that Amy had been walking home from school and happened upon the scene at that particular moment.

Simmonds would also later allege that he didn't see Amy running towards him to push the gun away from Boxer's head - but many townsfolk didn't believe him. In the struggle the gun discharged and a bullet flew into the air.

"When the gun went off Boxer said he thought he was dead," Mollie told Clover. "Everything went black. But gradually he came to and could hear shouting voices. The men were yelling and Amy was crying and shaking like a leaf. She told them she was going to get her parents, and if they touched the horse before she got back that she'd call the police."

"And that's when you saw her run into the farm here," said Clover.

"Yes," said Mollie. "Amy could hardly make out any words, but her parents knew it was serious. Theresa and John went straight back to Simmonds' yard with her. Boxer told me when they returned to the knackers that John was furious. He grabbed Simmonds around the neck and threw him against a fence. After the scuffle finished, they all looked to the ground and saw Amy holding Boxer with her arms wrapped around his neck. Amy told Simmonds that she was taking the horse home and nothing could stop her."

Mollie suddenly laughed, causing Clover to involuntarily jump. "Alfred Simmonds was known around town as someone you wouldn't want to cross. But the day he crossed paths with a twelve year old girl who loved animals was one that he'd never forget."

Unbeknownst to the pigs, the day they had sent Boxer to the knackers also set off a chain of events that would impact on their world forever. When John and Theresa arrived back at the knackers with Amy they were horrified by what they found.

Simmonds tried his hardest to barter with John. He told John that he had a business to run, that he had paid good money to Animal Farm for Boxer and couldn't afford to lose it. He told him that a horse as big as Boxer had a lot of good meat for dog food and was worth a lot of money.

When Theresa told him he that he made her sick Simmonds told her he was just a simple businessman and someone had to do it. He said he could only let Boxer go for five hundred pounds. Amy and her parents knew they only had two hundred pounds in the tin saved so far.

John told him that he must be joking, that the horse looked very sick and weak, and that Simmonds could lose his license for selling diseased meat.

It was at this moment that Boxer coughed loudly. Spittle flew everywhere, with a big wad of phlegm landing on Simmond's boot.

Theresa saw this and said she would be ringing the meat authorities immediately. Instantly Simmonds caved and spluttered, "Two hundred pounds."

"Fifty," said Amy. "The rest of our money will be needed for a vet."

Amy looked toward the gun still resting against the fence nearby.

"Fifty," she repeated firmly.

Simmonds knew he was beat.

"Fifty," he accepted reluctantly, thinking his nightmare was over.

But the nightmare wasn't over for Simmonds. That afternoon, after they got Boxer back to their farm, Theresa called the police. She was infuriated that her daughter had almost been shot. Then she called the Meat Health Authority and told them about it, too. The local newspaper got wind of the story and went to Simmonds with the police. The police found he had used unsafe gun practices and charged him for it. The meat health workers found more sick animals and they fined him for it.

When the local community read about it in the paper they were angry, too, and demanded Simmonds be shut down. The Animal Welfare League took the remaining animals to safety and he had no choice but to close his business.


	6. Chapter 6

"Not all humans are our enemy …" said Clover. "That's what you meant by that."

"It isn't black and white," said Mollie. "There is still a lot of work to be done. But it did help bring people together with the animals. And the people who had read the story in the paper spread the word, too.

Boxer was very weak when he got here. I couldn't believe my eyes that it was him. They led him to the stable and when he got there he collapsed. I ran to him and lay beside him, crying for his pain.

The vet came out straight away and did some tests, but the news wasn't good. He told them that Boxer had a very serious lung infection. He had been worked too hard. The vet said he would do all that he could, but he believed Boxer wasn't long for this world.

Amy had so many people coming by to see if they could help. Some gave money to help with the vet bills; some gave their time and advice on working with sick animals. Some just came and sat with Boxer while Amy was at school to make sure he was cared for at all times."

"Did Boxer know what was happening around him? Did he get better?" asked Clover.

"Boxer was weak and frail," said Mollie, "but Amy made sure at all times that his stable was warm, clean and cosy. She made herself a bed in his stall and slept beside him during those first few weeks. It was then that my bond with Amy was made, too. I loved her for loving Boxer and for helping him. It was then that my life really began.

Amy brought down a box that played music and sang to Boxer for hours. He found it calming … he felt safe and it let him focus on just getting better.

One day, a few weeks later, a song came out of the music box and the tune sounded familiar to him. The words were different - but it sounded like _Beasts of England_.

Boxer started to hum along and tried to get to his feet. Amy had been resting next to him and jumped up in surprise and ran to get Theresa and John.

I was with Boxer when it happened, too. He spoke to me for the first time since I had left Animal Farm. He told me, "I'm going to get better Mollie ... I don't want to work anymore. I want to _live_."

After that, each day he improved just a bit. The vet said he still needed plenty of rest but perhaps soon he would be able to go for a short walk.

While he rested Amy brought down books and would read to him every afternoon after school. She also read him funny stories she had written about her family and the other animals in the farm. Each day he became stronger and more alert."

Mollie smiled.

"He loved hearing animal stories the best. It made him laugh for the first time in a long time. Most of all he loved being held. He would put his head in Amy's lap and they would sit for hours in silence, Amy stroking his face while they both dreamed of better days."

"What about the other animals here?" asked Clover.

"They liked to hear the stories and music. When Amy read to Boxer they would stop, listen and laugh along, too.

After a month Boxer was doing a bit better. It was then that he got to fulfill his biggest dream. When Amy was at school he began to look at the books in the stable. He started by looking at the pictures on the cover and learnt to turn the pages gently with his nose. When he got a bit stuck I would help him turn the page because my hooves are a little bit daintier. Sometimes the chickens would help turn the pages, too.

One day Amy came home to find Boxer trying to open a book. I've never seen Amy so excited. She cried, "Do you want to learn to read Boxer? I'll teach you!"

"And so Boxer learnt to read," said Mollie. "Amy started with simple books with lots of pictures. She taught him the way she had learnt. The first words were 'cat', 'dog' and 'cow'. He wasn't as stupid as he thought. When he was able to relax and focus he picked it up quite quickly.

"I learnt alongside him," said Mollie proudly. "And I learnt to write, too."

"You can _write_?" asked Clover.

Mollie beamed. "Not a lot yet. But I am learning more every day thanks to Amy."

"Did Boxer learn to write, too?"

"Let me show you what Boxer learnt to write. His message." Mollie stood up and shook herself off. "Come with me."


	7. Chapter 7

Mollie began to lead Clover towards the main house on the property. Clover neared the lights of the house and began to shake.

"Where are we going? I can't go there - I'm scared."

Mollie understood and turned to her.

"Stand over there in the shadows. I'll show you how life can be."

Mollie boldly walked to a window at the house and tapped on it loudly with her nose.

Clover ducked behind a bush in fear.

Immediately a light went on, the window was flung upwards and the excited face of a young girl and a gentle-faced dog appeared with their hands and paws on the windowsill.

"Mollie!" Amy cried. "Are you okay?"

Amy disappeared momentarily and returned to the window with a sugar lump.

Mollie accepted the sugar and nuzzled against Amy's hand.

Then Mollie stood back and began scratching in the dirt with her hoof. Amy disappeared again from the window and returned to shine a torchlight on the dirt at Mollie's hooves.

Slowly and laboriously Mollie scratched at the dirt, her face furrowed with concentration, and lips sucked in with focus.

Amy stayed at the window and waited patiently, softly murmuring words of encouragement.

After what seemed an eternity, Mollie finished. Amy could tell it was a message but, to her, it was upside down. She jumped through the window with the dog and torch and stood beside Mollie.

It was a bit rough and difficult to read, but Amy persisted and finally said with awe, " _Boxer's friend_."

Mollie nickered quietly and out from the bushes stepped a trembling Clover.

Clover heard an intake of air and a squeal of delight as Amy raced towards her with arms outstretched.

Clover automatically stepped back with fear.

"Don't be afraid Clover," Mollie said. "She won't hurt you."

Clover slowly put her head forward to Amy's hand and sniffed her fingers. Gradually she relaxed.

After a while, Mollie walked to the bedroom window and nodded towards something on the bedside table. Amy knew straight away what she wanted and clambered through the window again, returning with a book in her hand.

"I know what Mollie wants to show you," Amy said. "Let's go down to Boxer's stall and have a look."

With her torch guiding the way Amy led Mollie, Clover and the dog down to the barn.

Having reached the barn, Amy and Mollie tiptoed, so they would not awaken the other sleeping animals. But one animal woke and hurled itself toward Clover with frightening intensity. Clover's throat tightened and, out of instinct, she reared up in terror. For running toward her at the speed of light was a pig.

Her hooves landed on the barn floor with a loud clatter.

Unlike at Animal Farm, the noise didn't seem to bother the sleeping animals. Some of the animals raised their eyes sleepily, saw Amy, Mollie and the pig, and peacefully went back to sleep.

"Jeremy," called Mollie. "This is Boxer's friend, Clover. She is afraid of pigs, so please give her some space."

Jeremy immediately stood back to give Clover some room.

"I'm so sorry to have frightened you," he said to Clover.

He tried to move further back and act calm, but his wiggling tail belied his excitement.

Amy led Mollie and a shaking Clover to a stable stall. Above the door to the stall was a sign with a painting of a horse, unmistakably Boxer, with a white stripe on his nose and his name in beautiful gold writing.

Amy settled herself first on the floor. The dog and Mollie went next and lay down gently near Amy. Tentatively Clover followed suit and lay down.

Jeremy, the pig, hung anxiously at the doorway, his tail still wiggling in excitement.

"Just be patient Jeremy," Amy called.

So he stayed where he was.

Once everyone was seated Amy shone the torch at the book in her hands, making sure both Mollie and Clover could see it.

When Amy opened the book Clover expected to see words she couldn't understand. Instead she saw photographs. Her heart jumped and ached at the same time.

The first photo showed Boxer the day he had arrived at the farm – in this very stable - weak and exhausted, with Amy and Mollie by his side. He looked broken in the photo, years of hard work and illness etched across his face.

"It hurts to look at this photo," said Amy sadly. "He was treated so badly."

She turned the page and another photo appeared.

"This was taken a few weeks later," Mollie said. "Look at his eyes - he had life in them for the first time since he arrived."

Clover looked closely and could see the spark that Mollie spoke of. She could see in the photo that a music box was behind Boxer and he was standing tall.

" _Beasts of England_ ," Mollie nickered.

The next photo made Clover catch her breath. In the photo Amy, Mollie and Boxer were lying together in the stall. Amy was reading a book to Boxer and showing him a picture. Boxer had his nose pressed right against the picture and was smiling broadly. But what shocked Clover the most was that tucked into Boxer's arm, was a tiny, sleeping piglet.

"That was Jeremy as a baby," Amy pointed to the photo. "He was the runt of the litter. His mother abandoned him, so he slept with Boxer who kept him warm and safe."

Clover looked towards the doorway where Jeremy stood, his eyes glistening, trembling still with his emotions.

Clover stared at him for a long time.

Finally, Jeremy said, "I loved Boxer, too." His voice wobbled. **"** And he _loved_ me."

Clover's eyes softened and she held out her hoof.

"Come," she said. "Please sit with us."

Jeremy didn't need a second invitation. Before Clover could blink he had thrown himself into her arms and tucked himself in. Clover could feel his heart madly beating against her own.

There were more photos. Photos of Amy hugging Boxer; one of Mollie and Boxer quietly talking; one of Boxer, Jeremy and Mollie with their heads thrown in the air laughing.

"He tried so hard to get better," said Amy.

The next set of photos showed Boxer getting stronger.

"And then Boxer learnt to write," said Amy proudly.

The photos showed Boxer scratching in the dirt as Molly had done earlier. Some showed crude A, B and C's, while others recorded symbols.

"Look Clover, this was Boxer with a four-leaf-clover he drew," said Mollie.

"He said he loved Clover," Jeremy told her, pointing to another heart-shaped symbol.

It all became too much for Clover, overwhelmed with emotion. She sobbed out loud, her emotions completely taking over.

For a long time they sat crying, all of them overcome with memories of Boxer.

"There's one more photo," Amy said after some time.

"This is Boxer's message," said Mollie. "He finished this the day before he died."

Amy turned the page.

Boxer stood so proudly in the photo. It reminded Clover of his younger days, such a strapping, muscly, beautiful boy.

In the dirt a single word was scratched. It was a long word. Clover recognised it started with a 'c'.

"I don't know what that word is," she told Mollie. "What does it say?"

"Choices," said Mollie. "It says _choices_."

Clover knew the word, but she struggled to comprehend what meaning Boxer had been trying to convey.

"It was the last thing that Boxer and I ever talked about," said Mollie. "He said he wished he had made different choices in his life. He wished he hadn't made the choice to work so hard for the humans _or_ the pigs. I told him I wished I hadn't been so silly and vain when I was younger.

But Boxer decided that choices could be changed. He wanted to get better so he could come back and tell you that in person. He wanted all of the animals at Animal Farm to know that there were still choices you could make."

"Boxer told me that he made a choice to love me always," said Jeremy with pride.

"Yes, he did," said Mollie, stroking his head. "And he promised to try and watch over you always."

Jeremy's eyes struggled to stay open and within minutes he was asleep in Clover's arms. Every now and again his eyes would twitch and a little snort would erupt from his snout as he tried valiantly to stay awake.

"He's so beautiful," said Amy, looking at Jeremy fondly as she began to softly sing the alphabet to him.

The night of action finally caught up with Clover and, along with Mollie, she found herself also drifting off to the soothing lullaby.


	8. Chapter 8

When Theresa came to the barn the next morning she found Amy and all of the animals tucked into each other, sleeping soundly.

She smiled and went to fetch an armful of hay.

"Good morning," she said softly on her return. "Who do we have here?"

Amy awoke and jumped to her feet. "Mum! This is Boxer's friend."

The hay dropped to the ground in surprise.

"Oh my gosh … she's so beautiful," said Theresa gently.

Clover awoke and struggled to her feet."

"Don't be scared girl. I brought you some food."

Mollie also got up and nuzzled at her hand. Theresa laughed and stroked Mollie's head.

"And I brought some sugar lumps for you, Mollie. I bought a big bag yesterday with your manure money."

Theresa looked over to Clover, who was now standing tall. The morning sun was beginning to stream through the barn, and she could see that Clover had not been looked after. Clover's eyes were clogged with gunk from her rheumy eyes, her mane and tail were tightly matted in knots, her ribs stuck out and it appeared that her hooves had not been cared for in years.

As Clover hungrily ate the hay, Amy turned to her mother.

"Does Clover have to go back to Animal Farm?"

Theresa shook her head in dismay at Clover's poor condition.

"I don't want her to," she said. "But that is Clover's decision to make for herself."

Everyone sat in silence while Clover ate. Jeremy finally awoke and lay peacefully watching Clover as though he still couldn't quite believe she was there.

When Clover finished eating, Theresa patted her muzzle and looked her in the eyes.

" _Do you want to go back to Animal Farm_?" she asked.

Boxer's words rang in Clover's mind. _Choices_.

Clover's eyes filled with fright and she shook her head vehemently. Mollie stood in front of her as if to protect her.

Clover had made her choice.

"Right," said Theresa as she walked out. "I'll go and make some phone calls."

"Don't worry Clover," said Amy. "Mum's been concerned about Animal Farm for a long time. Perhaps people will start to believe her now."

Theresa spent all morning on the phone while Mollie, Clover and Jeremy ate grass and chattered in an open field.

After a while Mollie led the small group to an old dilapidated gate separating them from the adjoining farm. As Clover looked over to the neatly manicured fields that ranged as far as the eye could see, she couldn't help compare it to the homely simplicity that Mollie lived in.

Mollie niftily unlatched the gate with her nose, as though she had done it many times before.

"Come through," she said, holding the gate ajar with her hoof. "I want to show you something."

Clover hesitated, held back by a feeling of fear that had become second nature after years of being so tightly controlled.

But the sight of Jeremy skipping across the entrance jolted her senses and she tentatively stepped through.

They didn't walk far before Mollie stopped under a large, old oak tree. Standing tall and proud the tree's leaves were beginning to bud and unfurl in preparation for the coming spring.

Though the tree seemed unremarkably different from the surrounding trees, Clover sensed this place held a special meaning for Mollie.

Mollie drew in a deep breath as if to drink up every molecule in the air.

"I was born here," she said, as she looked over to a patch of grass at the base of the tree.

This startled Clover as she had never really given much thought to where Mollie had come from. She remembered the day that Jones had brought Mollie to Animal Farm as a fresh, beautiful, young pony. But, in Clover's mind, Mollie had always belonged to the herd at Animal Farm.

As she did every time she came to this place, Mollie closed her eyes and willed for memories to fill her mind. But, as ever, only snatches of memories came; the feeling of warmth of her mother's breath against her head, snippets of sunny days learning to drink, learning to eat and the sound of a child's laughter were the only things she could touch upon in her mind.

As she opened her eyes, in the far distance, Mollie could see a female figure on the other side of the fence carrying two buckets of feed toward the barn.

"Theresa's parents owned their farm for many years and then the property passed onto her when they died. When she was a little girl, Theresa would slip through the fence and come over to play with me. She'd bring me sugar lumps and ribbons for my mane and we spent so many hours of happiness together before they took me away. The day that old Farmer McEntire sold me to Jones broke her heart.

It was only by pure chance that she heard about the white pony that been taken to Alfred Simmonds – but it was then that she came to rescue me. When she looked at me that day I couldn't remember her name … but I remembered her eyes."

Mollie looked around at Benjamin and Clover and smiled.

"I think part of our soul never forgets pure love. And I'm glad I went home with her that day."

Clover had not felt so at peace for a long, long time. She felt many of her questions had been answered. But she had just one more question for Mollie.

" _Why did it take so long for you to come and pass on Boxer's message to us?_ "

Mollie dipped her head and spoke so softly that her response was almost inaudible.

"Part of me was angry that no-one helped Boxer, after the terrible things the pigs did to him. And that you all stayed and continued to worship them, knowing they had killed our friend."

She raised her head and looked Clover in the eyes, her voice rising.

"And the other part of me was afraid. I didn't want to face the pigs and risk losing what I have here. I'm not as brave as Boxer … I'm still a coward. But the pigeons brought word that the pigs were seen buying large stocks of bullets. I knew I had to act … Boxer would have wanted me to."

Clover looked away, a tear rolling down her nose.

"I understand," she said finally. "You didn't have to fight our battle … we have been cowards for too long. We let them get away with it for years and said nothing."

Mollie touched Clover's leg. "You're not alone in this anymore," she said.

Jeremy nudged her other leg. "We'll be here for you."

Clover's heart melted looking down at Jeremy and she nudged him back.

"I can see why Boxer loved you so much."

Jeremy grinned and threw himself into a puddle next to him, covering himself in thick black mud, squealing with delight. Clover and Mollie looked on, and couldn't help but laugh at the sight.


	9. Chapter 9

Later in the day Theresa and John came down to the barn with some cardboard and paint. Amy sat with them for quite some time painting words on the cardboard.

All of the animals in the barn crowded around to watch. Clover struggled to read the words.

"What does it say?" she asked Mollie.

Mollie smiled broadly and replied " _Animal Rights_."

Mollie stepped forward to a piece of cardboard that Amy had freshly painted. She dipped her hoof gently in the tin of paint and then laid it gently next to Amy's words.

Amy looked over at Clover and smiled.

"Do you want to sign it, too?"

Clover moved forward and copied what Mollie had done. Every animal lined up after Clover and solemnly repeated this process on other signs with their own feet, too.

Jeremy, who had found some more mud to roll in, nearly missed out on the occasion, and ran in to join them.

He let out a loud squeal when he saw what was happening and ran to dip his trotter in the paint. In his excitement, he sent the tin of paint flying and it landed with a loud splat against the barn wall.

Amy laughed, remarking he had just created a beautiful painting that would always remind her of this day. It did look quite pretty, the colourful droplets of paint quickly drying on the sunny barn wall.

With paint still on his trotter, Jeremy gently placed it on the last sign.

"I don't want what happened to Boxer to happen again," he said. "I want to be someone that Boxer would have been proud of."

"He would have been proud of you," said Clover. "So very, very proud."

"Here, here!" called the other animals behind Clover, including the pigeons in the rafters.

John got some sticks to hold the signs. As he was nailing them together, Mollie approached and stretched her neck out to him.

"Dad, Mollie wants a sign, too!" cried Amy. She ran to get some string and ribbons and quickly tied the sign to the string, creating a necklace.

Again Mollie stretched out her neck and moved to Amy. Amy placed the sign around her neck and then deftly tied the ribbons in Mollie's mane.

Amy stood back and looked Mollie up and down.

"You look beautiful Mollie. Just _beautiful_."

Mollie beamed and the other animals stomped and crowed in agreement.

Amy stood next to Mollie and called out to all of the animals.

"We're going to Animal Farm to have some words with them." She looked at Clover. "You don't have to come with us if you choose not to – we'll understand if you don't want to."

Clover felt adrenalin course through her body and she thought of Boxer. Her choice was made.

She stepped forward and reached her neck out for a sign.

By this time Jeremy was nearly fainting with excitement.

"I'm coming too!" he cried, racing forward for his own sign.

Most of the animals formed a line, as they too wanted a sign. Many of them had grown to love and respect Boxer in the short time they had with him. But some of the animals didn't feel up to confronting the pigs and Mollie told them that was fine – it was a personal choice to make.

When the animals were ready, Amy and her parents gathered at the barn door.

"Let's go!" yelled Jeremy, bouncing up the driveway with his wiggling tail in full flight; with the animals that had chosen to stay cheering him on.

They made quite a sight marching down the road. People and animals came out of their homes to see what was going on.

Mollie nodded to them and said to Clover, "A lot of these people helped Amy when Boxer was sick. They were angry at how he had been treated."

As the animals marched past with their signs, more people and animals in the surrounding farms ran out and joined the back of the quickly growing line. By the time they reached the gate to Animal Farm there was an enormous crowd of both humans and animals.

Waiting at the driveway gate to Animal Farm were two vans. One read _Animal Welfare League_ and the other read _Police_. A man in a suit was also waiting patiently. Mollie pointed him out to Clover.

"That's the vet who tried to help Boxer get better. He was very angry at the poor treatment of Boxer at Animal Farm."

When they were all ready, Clover stepped forward and unlatched the gate with her nose. Everyone streamed down the driveway holding up signs, marching straight to the house of the pigs. Those who didn't have time to make signs were verbal. As they marched to the house they yelled "Animal rights!" over and over and the animals bleated, crowed, quacked and mooed the message in their own unique ways.

The dogs had seen the fracas coming on the monitors but didn't move. Along with their whipped and scarred bodies, their minds thought of the fallen dogs from the previous battle. Though the highly ranked pig had received a moving funeral and was decorated with 'first class animal hero' status, there had been no such action for the slain dogs. The pigs had decreed that there would be no funerals for traitors.

"I will not protect the pigs anymore," said one dog, and the other dogs growled in agreement.

The pigs had quickly become addicted to their new television and were still engrossed with it. They sat, surrounding the box, howling with laughter at the comedy they were watching. They didn't even have time to react as the huge crowd surged into the house. The dogs had unlocked the doors so there was no banging and clattering to force their way in.

Humans and animals streamed into the house and the pigs looked up in shock when the television cord was unceremoniously yanked from its socket. It was only then they finally heard the voices which they had been oblivious; drowned out by the blare of the television and their raucous grunting.

It was almost like the first battle. But this time there were no whips or fighting; just two words.

" _Animal rights!_ " The chorus shouted loudly as more and more marched in, filling the room so quickly the pigs were soon surrounded. There was no time to reach for their whips and guns, so they only had one option. Squealer was the first to move.

"Run!" he yelled.

All pretense of walking on two legs was gone. For such a lazy pig, Squealer was surprisingly agile when he needed to be. The humans and animals watched in amazement as he sprung into the air, landed on top of a cow's back, smashed through a window and ran toward the back paddock as fast as his fat, four legs could take him. Other pigs immediately followed suit and the sound of squealing and windows breaking could only just be heard over the roar of "ANIMAL RIGHTS!"

Napoleon was too old to move so nimbly. Still in his wheelchair, he dramatically clutched at his heart and exclaimed, "I am dying of a heart attack! I command you to save me."

But, no-one could hear him over the din, and he was easily carried out to the police van with handcuffs on his fat, bloated trotters.

After the pigs were gone, Theresa and the group walked through the house. The dogs led her to a room where the camera monitors were kept. Stored in cupboards were tapes of footage the pigs had been saving since they had started monitoring the animals. Theresa handed them to the police, which they said could be used as evidence.

"They didn't realise that we could watch _them_ , too" Theresa said.

Jeremy – who had stayed with Theresa - looked around the house. Scattered on the table were cards, gold coins and whisky bottles. Half smoked cigars were still burning, threatening to light up the Sunday Telegraph that been kicked around in the uproar. At odds with these items was a single book, a Bible, with the page edges coated in fine gold-thread.

"They have all these _things_ ," said Jeremy sadly. "But I can't see any mud to play in."

While some stayed in the house, Mollie and Clover made their way down to the barn. The frightened animals had heard the commotion up at the house and had opened the barn door a crack to investigate. They were amazed to see Squealer and the other pigs in full flight, running down to the far back corner of the farm and springing over the fences to the unclaimed woodlands beyond.

As they disappeared into the thicket, Benjamin made a noise no-one had ever heard before. It sounded like a cross between a bray and a snort. For the first time in a long, long time Benjamin laughed out loud. Moses, the raven, had told him long ago about the wild and hungry foxes that lived in the wilderness.

"What will be, will be," he said to the animals that were asking if he was okay.

When the animals heard voices approaching the barn all, except Benjamin, darted for cover.

Mollie and Clover entered the barn and simply said, "They're gone."

Clover called out reassuringly to the hiding animals. "It's safe to come out … but now it's time to make some _choices_."


	10. Chapter 10

In the following days the remaining animals at Animal Farm made a number of decisions. The dogs were the first to decide. Some of them decided to go to safe houses with the Animal Welfare League and try their luck with humans. Some of the dogs decided to head to the unknown and take their chances in the woodlands.

The goats determined that they also wanted to go to the wilderness. After much discussion they came to the conclusion that they would be safer in the distant, rocky mountainous areas, where the foxes couldn't reach them. Some of the dogs offered to walk them there and to protect them, if needed.

As Mollie told Clover, nothing was black and white, and there was no guarantee of safety for any of the animals. Not all humans were the enemy, and conversely, not all animals were friends. There was still so much work to be done and Major's dream remained a whisper in the breeze.

The young horses and hens decided to live with Clover and Amy until they knew what they wanted to do in the long term.

The ducks were loudest in their decision-making. The drakes were determined to go it alone in the wild, while the females continually clucked frantically, "Think of the children!" Eventually a consensus was reached that satisfied both sides.

Only the sheep wanted to stay on at Animal Farm. While the other animals held meetings to determine their future, the sheep had gone up to the now empty farmhouse and taken the spoils back to the barn.

The box with moving pictures was plugged in and immediately the sheep, both young and old, were enthralled. Battles broke out over which shows to watch.

As the other animals said their goodbyes to each other and prepared to leave Animal Farm, the sheep barely raised their eyes to those leaving.

The young horses and hens were amongst the last to go. Clover, Mollie and Amy had come to help them make the walk to their new farm.

Clover pulled Bessy the sheep aside.

"Are you sure you want to stay? What will you do?"

Bessy wavered as she saw the very last animal, a donkey, heading out the barn door. In a flash of reality she realised the sheep were alone.

"Benjamin!" she called. "Will you stay and protect us?"

Benjamin looked over to the crowd of sheep at the television and then back to Bessy.

"No-one can help anyone who doesn't want to help themselves." He shook his head sadly. "One day your fleece will need shearing."

Bessy again wavered, but then her attention was distracted by a loud noise and laughter from the crowd of sheep. Her choice was made. She returned to the television box and re-settled with the other sheep.

That was the last sight of the Animal Farm barn for Clover and Benjamin as they walked out of the door side by side.

On their way out of the farm they stopped at the wall which had once held the Animal Farm commandments. There was only one thing left to do to it.

A year passed by and stories filtered back of the animals that had left Animal Farm.

Some of the goats had been spotted by the birds, living high up in the rocky mountains in great numbers.

The young horses had been seen galloping across various paddocks - some with human riders, some without.

The ducks, it was told, were now living at the pond of a human aged-care facility. Through winter they were seen being fed large lumps of bread by the elderly residents.

In spring the ducks had been spotted putting on an event at the pond. They proudly glided by the elderly residents, chests puffed, as their newly-hatched ducklings swam behind them. The grandchildren of the elderly were seen laughing delightedly and running alongside the riverbank to watch the baby ducklings.

No-one had seen the sheep since the day the other animals had left Animal Farm. The last of the year's hay would soon be running out and the land was overgrown from neglect. The wall, which once held the Animal Commandments, was covered with ivy. Underneath the spreading vine, a single word could still just be seen. _Choices_. This was Clover and Benjamin's final message.

Benjamin made the choice for his future in his own way. He was often seen in various fields around the town. The local humans and animals had learned to leave him be when he was in their fields. He had no enemies or friends, though once he did accept another straw hat from one of the local children to protect his aging head from the elements. When he was ready, he would then move on to the next farm.

And every so often Benjamin was seen standing in a garden near a large memorial rock, with two old horses, a pig and a young girl. As they stood in silence, the horses and donkey would occasionally flick their tails to keep the flies off each other in the warm spring sun.

An inscription was painted on the rock. Amy had studiously copied the words that Clover had learnt to scratch onto the ground with help from Mollie and Jeremy. The words were Boxer's thoughts from his final hours on earth. In his last days Boxer had come to understand that it didn't matter if someone was a pig. It didn't matter if someone was a human. And it didn't matter if someone was an animal.

The inscription on the rock captured Boxer's final words:

 _The only thing that truly matters, in this world, is love._

The End


End file.
